


Painted sun in abstract

by Ischa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3095558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about Bucky's first time. It's not a happy (it's not unhappy) or romantic story, it's a story about Bucky figuring himself out. </p><p>  <i>“There you are,” the man says. His voice is nice, melodic. He told Bucky his name, but Bucky didn’t bother to remember it. It's not like this will happen again. (At least, he thinks, not with this man.) </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted sun in abstract

**Author's Note:**

> I'm exploring my own headcanon with this.  
> Beta: omletlove <3

Bucky is barely sixteen, but he doesn't look like a kid anymore to his own eyes. He's grown quite a bit, filled out while he was working last summer on his uncle's farm. He isn't sure how he looks to the man's eyes.  
He doesn't really care.  
The man smiles down at him.  
Bucky isn't sure he likes to be on his back, with the man braced over him. He feels small that way, caged in – wonders if that is how Steve feels all the time and then lets the thought of Steve go. Thoughts of Steve have no room here. 

The man's fingers trail over Bucky's arm. It's a soft touch – he didn't think. He didn't think. That's the problem. He had just – he went with his gut. On most days that was a good idea. He couldn't be second guessing himself now.  
The man's nails dig into the fleshy part of his arm – not too hard, just hard enough. Bucky's eyes snap open. He doesn't know when he closed them.

“There you are,” the man says. His voice is nice, melodic. He told Bucky his name, but Bucky didn’t bother to remember it. It's not like this will happen again. (At least, he thinks, not with this man.) The man leans in and Bucky turns his face away, so the kiss lands on his cheek. The man laughs softly; Bucky can feel it against his skin. The kisses are quick and interrupted with licks and nips that make Bucky bite his lip so he doesn't make any noise. It's a habit to keep quiet.  
His body is getting hot, inflaming in the wake of the man's kisses and licks, nearly painful nips to Bucky's skin, neck, collarbone. His hips are restless, seeking more contact when the man leans down. His body is firm and warm, and so much bigger than Bucky's.  
The man's hands slide under Bucky's shirt and when they brush a nipple Bucky bites the pillow.  
He's breathing faster, but so is the man.  
The man leans up then, Bucky can't help but look at him then and stare as he strips out of his own jacket and dress-shirt. The man's clothes look expensive – some people still have money, even during a depression, Bucky knows that. Maybe it was part why he said yes. Maybe this man is a gangster. Bucky doesn't care. Once the man is naked from the waist up, his fingers are on Bucky's body again. They unbutton Bucky's worn shirt, slide the undershirt up, his big hands caressing Bucky's ribcage in the process, as he slides the shirt over Bucky’s arms and his head. Bucky's fingers curl around the headboard with just the slightest bit of prompting from the man. He feels hot, flushes, he wants to close his eyes, he wants to stand up, he wants to go (he wants to do this with Steve).  
He wants the man's mouth on him again.  
The man trails his finger from Bucky's lips, over his chin, neck and straight down over his chest to his groin. Bucky's dick is straining and getting harder by the second. The man slides the finger over Bucky's dick and he bites his lip again. He wants to make noises, but doesn't dare.  
The man cups him and Bucky does moan then, low and a bit shocked. Bucky's fingers curl harder around the metal of the headboard as the man starts to rub the bulge in his pants. It feels so good. He wants his pants off; he wants to feel the man's hand on his naked, hard flesh. His hips are thrusting without his consent.  
The man leans down and kisses Bucky's stomach. Bucky moans again, a bit louder. It doesn't seem to matter here. The man's tongue slides down and then he's mouthing at the Bucky's cock, still trapped in his pants. 

“Just-” Bucky gets out and feels the man smile against his cock. Bastard, Bucky thinks. 

“What? Just what, James?” The man asks. 

“Take it out,” he bites out. He's embarrassed, hates that he has to say it, hates that he has to ask for it, hates that it feels like begging to him. Hates that he kinda likes it. 

“With pleasure,” the man says and opens Bucky's pants. 

His cock is so hard and wet at the head. The man strokes it a few times and then leans in and kisses the tip, licks, and then before Bucky knows what is happening, his cock is engulfed in wet heat and he’s clutching so hard at the headboard that his knuckles are white.  
Nothing had ever felt that good. Nothing.  
He can feel his orgasm building hard and fast and he thrusts up, but the man's hands come down on his hips, pinning him to the bed, his mouth slides gently over Bucky's length and then it's gone. 

“Not yet,” the man said.  
Bucky groans in frustration. He's hard, but – sometimes he stops too and counts to fifty and then he starts with gentle strokes again and it's so much better, balancing on the edge for a while longer.  
The man kisses his hip as he slides Bucky's pants down until Bucky is completely naked.  
His legs are spread and the man's fingers are between them, slick and cool and Bucky jerks away on instinct.  
The man sits up. Just looks at him. Waits.  
Bucky knows what this is about – he's heard things.  
He's hard and the thought of – having someone inside him is exciting, but -  
The man brushes Bucky's damp hair from his forehead and kisses it. He trails kisses down his face until Bucky can feel his hot breath against the shell of his ear.  
“How do you want it? Soft and gentle or a bit harder?” he asks.

“I-”

“I'm going to fuck you, James,” the man cuts in. His voice is still soft, but also steely. The man's cock slides hard and wet against Bucky's for emphasis.

Bucky closes his eyes and breathes. “You talk too much,” he replies. 

The man laughs, like he wants to say 'cocky little shit', it sounds fond. Makes something inside Bucky tighten and loosen at the same time.  
The man grabs him by the hair then and Bucky knows what he wants, he pushes. This is one thing that is not going to happen. (An irrational part of him still holds out that first kiss – wants the first time his lips are pressed against someone else’s to be special, wants the other person to be Steve).  
The man lets go of his hair, kisses Bucky's chest and nudges his legs apart. Bucky relaxes into it.  
Bucky's hands grab the sheets as the man starts to circle his hole and then pushes the tip of his finger inside.  
The man's other hand strokes his cock and it – it feels good, Bucky can feel himself relax into it, his body taking over, opening up. He's drifting on a confusing cloud of pleasure until the man starts to push his cock inside Bucky.  
The man intertwines their fingers, holds Bucky still, keeps him grounded while he pushes in and then stills, breathing hard. Bucky is biting his lip so hard he tastes blood. And then after what feels like an eternity to Bucky, the man moves and it's better, not good, but better.  
Until the man hits something inside him and he groans harshly. 

“There,” the man whispers and does it again. His pace picks up.  
Only fair Bucky thinks, he didn't answer the question and it seems that the man decided for him. Harder it is. 

Bucky slings his legs around the man’s waist, crosses them over his ass, pulls him in, because yes, this feels good and he wants more of it, wants it deeper and wants this man to never ever stop hitting that spot. Like this his cock slides against the hard planes of the man's stomach, which is just enough to make him crazy with need. He pushes up as best he can for more friction and then he's tensing and coming.  
Hears the man groan above him. Doesn't open his eyes, doesn't care. Is swept away by the intense pleasure wreaking his body. Making him clutch at the man harder.  
Dimly he hears the man curse and feels him come too. Feels him tense, relax, collapse on top of Bucky. Feels the hot breath, the soft lips against his neck.  
Doesn't move. Just breathes.  
The man's kiss to his neck is lingering and then he sits up. “You should clean up.” 

Bucky nods, but doesn't move. Neither does the man. He just looks at Bucky.  
Bucky can feel his face heat up. Is aware how he must look. Marks on his body, his legs spread, his own come smeared on his cock and belly, the man's release dripping down from between his legs.  
“You-” the man starts. 

“Don't wanna hear it,” Bucky cuts in, pushing up from the bed. He has to go back.

The man laughs. “And you were such a good boy just a few minutes ago.” 

Bucky gives him a look and gets up from the bed. His legs feel a bit unsteady. He stretches, doesn't care that the man is looking. Kinda likes that the man's eyes are on him. Knows he would probably punch him if he should try to touch him now. The man keeps his distance like he knows.  
Bucky gathers his clothes and disappears into the tiny bathroom.  
He cleans up as best he can, suddenly needs to get rid of it all. Scrubs at his skin until it looks red.

When he enters the bedroom again, the man is gone. Bucky is glad.  
He grabs his ratty cardigan from the floor where it landed when they first closed the door behind them, brushes it off and puts it on.  
The autumn air is biting now, so he puts his hands in his pockets against the chill, feels something crinkle against the brush of his fingers.  
He pulls the money out – doesn't wonder where it came from.  
Thinks about getting angry, doesn't.  
Decides to buy a pack of colored pencils for Steve instead.


End file.
